A Walk on the Wild Side
by carryon-vs
Summary: Episode 20. People and things aren't always what they seem. The brothers find unlikely allies and shrewd enemies around every bend in the road. Stopping Lucifer just got harder.
1. Chapter 1

Carry On...a Supernatural Virtual Season

Episode 20: A Walk on the Wild Side

Authors: Bayre and Vanessa Sgroi

Disclaimer: We don't own Supernatural or it's characters, basically any characters familiar from the show. They are properties of the WB, CW and Eric Kripke.

A/N: Carry On...A Supernatural Virtual Season picks up at the end of All Hell Breaks Loose part one and then ventures on with a what if scenario that takes the Winchester brothers through heaven and hell while fighting to save the remnants of their splintered family. See our bio page for more information.

Episode Summary: People and things aren't always what they seem. The brothers find unlikely allies and shrewd enemies around every bend in the road. Stopping Lucifer just got harder.

PART ONE

"Well, wow, this is a new one." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned most of his weight on one leg. He stared down at the pavement in front of the car.

When steam hissed from one side of the front of the car, from the radiator, Sam guessed, Dean glared at him. Sam glared right back. "You're the one who insists on flying down these back roads. It was bound to happen."

"Oh, no, not _this_. This was _not_ bound to happen, like ever. Besides I'm a great driver. I've been driving _forever_ and driving the _same_ car forever."

Sam scratched at the back of his head, looked up and down the road then back to that patch right in front of the car. Nope, nothing had changed. "What do we do about this?"

Dean gave him a look that read _you're kidding, right_?, and started to the back of the car. "It's a monster. We kill monsters. So what do you think, rock-salt, silver bullets, regular bullets, consecrated bullets?" He disappeared when the trunk popped open. The car shifted slightly signaling that Dean was rooting around in the weapons' cache.

"How about no bullets?"

"What?" Dean's head appeared beside the trunk door. "That's ridiculous, what are we going to do, carve it up? Strangle it? Shooting it is fast, simple, humane and easy."

"We can't kill it, Dean." Sam squared his shoulders and stood with hands on hips. "We're not killing it."

The trunk slammed shut with a heavy thunk. Dean's head dropped forward. "Huh?" He stepped around until he was standing beside Sam again. "That's silly. Of course we're killing it. Who knows what it's planning. Just what do you want to do, keep it?" Dean squinted at him then drew in a sharp breath. "You want to keep it. Dude, Sammy, we can't have a dog let alone a…a…"

"Go ahead, Dean, say it. That's a Sasquatch. Big foot. And what has it done other than run you off the road?"

"Us. It ran us off the road."

"You were driving, oh master of the road." Sam held both hands in the air and waggled his fingers a few times before letting his hands drop back to his sides again. "It's a living, breathing, feeling creature. We can't just kill it."

"So are werewolves, we kill them."

"Werewolves are evil and vile and predatory. How do we know this is the same thing?" Sam countered.

"And for your information, it stinks! Kinda like toe jam. That is reason enough, clear the air."

"No, Dean. And I don't even wanna know how or why you know what toe jam smells like."

"This is not Harry, and we're not the Hendersons. We're the Winchesters. Biiiiiig difference."

Sam stood watching his brother, head cocked to one side, arms folded across his chest.

"Fine." Dean walked to the passenger side of the car, tossed the shotgun onto the front seat and slammed the door shut. He stalked around to the other side and yanked the back door open. "Okay." He waved grandly at the backseat. "Shove him in."

Sam sighed and looked down at the stinky, hairy thing. He took a step forward and gulped when it twitched. Half bent over with arms outstretched toward the Sasquatch, Sam glanced up at his brother.

"Oh for the love of—" Dean marched forward. "You're nothing but a huge pain in the ass." He pointed at the Sasquatch. "And Toe-Jam here is going to be even a bigger pain in the ass." Grabbing the Sasquatch's feet he jerked them up. "You going to help or not?"

Sam grinned and slipped his hands under the creature's shoulders and together they hefted it off the ground. Sidestepping in time with his brother toward the car, Sam stopped just as they reached the opened door. "Think it'll fit? It is sort of big."

"You fit." Dean grumbled and shoved Toe-Jam's feet into the car, then helped Sam load the rest of him. When the car dipped under its weight Dean sighed. "We're going to have to get more air in the tires as well as a new radiator. You," He pointed to Sam. "Will sit in the front seat with that shotgun pointed at that," Dean pointed to the Sasquatch, "The entire time. Got it?"

Sam nodded and shut the car door, skirting around his brother to the passenger side. He piled into the car, waiting for Dean to do the same. Cradling the shotgun in one arm, Sam poked at his GPS with his free hand. "There's…um…a town about six miles ahead."

"The radiator is shot, we're going to have to take it slow and stop every half mile or so to let the engine cool." Dean tossed him an annoyed look, "And will you keep that gun on that _thing_!"

As Dean predicted they'd gone just over a half a mile before they had to stop and cut the engine, letting the car cool down. It was going to take forever to travel their six required miles to town. On their second cooling stop, Sam headed into the woods to relieve himself. When he returned he found Toe-Jam sitting up in the back seat with Dean feeding him M&M's.

"Softy. What happened to keeping a gun on it?" Sam muttered as he got back into the car.

Dean snorted, turned around and started the car again, driving slowly. When the engine stuttered and groaned, Dean pulled off to the side of the road. "Another break time." This time he pushed out of the car and stretched. Twisting side to side, he pointed to something in the woods. "What do you suppose that is?"

Sam climbed free of the car and walked around to join his brother. A quick glance back and he saw the Sasquatch had fallen asleep. Stepping away from the car, Sam said, "Let's see."

Trudging into the woods they came to what looked like a cave opening covered with vines. Pushing through the foliage curtain, Sam came to a stop so fast Dean ran into his back.

"Dude," Dean smacked the back of Sam's head. "Signal." Muttering under his breath, Dean walked past Sam and deeper into the cave. "This isn't really a cave."

"Yeah." Sam agreed, looking around. It was perfectly round, like they were standing inside a gigantic geode. The walls shimmered and glistened with some light, but there was no source he could see.

"Hey, look at this." Dean poked at a small, round, black pot on the ground. He knelt beside it, and ran his fingers through the contents. The pot was filled with coins, shiny gold coins. Standing with a handful of them, Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out a few of the Seal Coins he carried, holding them side by side and out for Sam to see the comparison. "These are almost identical."

Hands held side by side, the coins bounced around, jingling as they hit one another.

"Be careful you don't mix them."

"I'm not an amateur, Sam." Dean fisted the Seal Coins and stuck them back into his pocket. The others he let drop back into the pot. "This is weird and not something I think I want to mess with right now. Faeries and leprechauns have lairs like this, messing with them and demons and angels all at once is too much like work."

"We should get back and get to town before it's completely dark." When they left the cave and returned to the road, Sam carefully marked the spot so they could investigate later.

-0-

Dean opened the driver's side door, pausing before he dropped into his seat to frantically wave a hand under his nose. "Damn this thing stinks. Hurry up and roll down your window," he ordered as he rolled down his own. "I didn't think it was possible but he smells worse than you after you've had a seven-layer burrito!" Dean started the Impala and pulled back on to the road.

Sam glanced at the sleeping creature in the backseat then tossed a glare in his brother's direction. "Yeah, kinda like _YOU_ after a big bowl of five-alarm chili."

"I dunno what you're talking about, I smell like a bouquet of flowers. Especially after I eat five-alarm chili. With extra jalapenos."

Sam snorted in mock contempt. "Yeah, right. You just keep telling yourself that, oh Fragrant One."

A loud grunting-whistling-growling noise suddenly filled the car.

"What the—" Dean startled, unintentionally jerking the steering wheel to the right before correcting course. His eyes flicked to his brother then the review mirror. "What the hell's that noise?"

Sam looked over the back of his seat and barked out a laugh. "It's snoring!"

Dean's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Seriously?"

"Uh huh. Mouth's hanging open and everything."

"It's not drooling on the leather, is it?"

"No," Sam grinned, "No drool. At least I don't think so."

The Impala hissed and spit yet again and Dean pulled over to let her cool a bit. "Hope this town has a decent auto shop."

"How much farther do you think?" asked Sam, pushing his bangs out of his eyes with an index finger.

Dean glanced at the odometer. "'nother couple of miles."

A growly squeak from the backseat drew their attention and both brothers turned to look at their hairy passenger who was coming awake. The three occupants of the car blinked at each other in bemusement for several seconds before the Sasquatch began bouncing up and down on the seat.

Dean looked at his brother. "What's it doing?"

Sam returned his look and shrugged, brow beetled in a frown. "Beats me."

The bouncing got a little faster.

"Oh, God, maybe it has to pee!" Dean's voice was more than a little horrified as he shoved open his own car door. "No peeing in the Impala! Sam, c'mon, we need to get it out of the car!" He yanked open the back door. "Okay, Toe Jam, out. Out of the car right now!"

"Dean, stop yelling at it! You're probably scaring him. And quit calling him Toe Jam—that's disgusting."

Dean huffed. "Fine. TJ then. How do we get it out of the car? Before it pees or something."

"Why don't we try asking?"

"Are you nuts? It's a SASQUATCH, Sam." Seeing his little brother's intractable look, the very one he'd used just a little while ago, Dean threw up his arms in surrender. "FINE. Ask TJ to please get out of the car then."

Rather than confuse the hapless creature, Sam moved around the back of the car and joined Dean at the open back door. Leaning in, he smiled a full-dimple smile and said, "Hey…uh…umm…TJ…would you like to come out of there? Maybe go back into the woods or something?"

To his, and Dean's, surprise, the Sasquatch inched across the seat and slid out of the car, straightening to his full height, topping Sam by a good two or three inches. It snuffled and tilted its head, peering at them both.

Dean poked TJ in the chest. "Okay, big fella, how about you go on home now," he gestured with a thumb over his shoulder, "Back to your cave or whatever."

TJ poked back and Dean landed flat on his back with an "oomph" as his lungs emptied on impact. Gathering his breath, and whatever wits he had left, the older Winchester regained his feet.

Sam looked him over. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He brushed at the seat of his pants. To the Sasquatch he said, "Don't know your own strength there, huh, TJ?"

The creature poked Dean again but with far less force behind it. It then poked Sam before poking itself in the chest. It repeated the action two more times, head tilting back and forth.

"Listen, this is fun and all," muttered Dean, "but you really should get on home now." He made a shooing motion with both hands. "Go on, TJ. Go back to the woods. Go!"

The Sasquatch's expression could only be described as crestfallen. It turned and moved away, its gait awkward and shuffling due to an impressive limp.

"Dean, we can't just send it away like that! It's injured!"

"It'll be fine."

"Dean!"

Dean watched the creature limp forward a few more steps before he caved. Ruffling a hand through his short hair, he called out, "TJ, wait!" The Sasquatch halted and looked back forlornly over his shoulder. "C'mon, ya big lug, come back here."

When the Sasquatch rejoined them, Dean pointed to the backseat. "Get back in the car. You can stay with us for a couple of days, I guess." Just as TJ was about to dive back into the vehicle, Dean hollered, "Wait! You don't have to pee, do you?" At TJ's puzzled look, Dean rolled his eyes. "Nevermind. Just get in the car."

After stopping several more times in order to keep the Impala going, Dean was relieved to see a small motel, The Leafy Tree, come up on the right. He turned into the parking lot with a sigh of relief. Dean jogged to the office and quickly secured a room then pulled the car around the corner of the building, parking in front of Room 16.

"I'll get our stuff out of the trunk," Dean said as he opened his door, "You sneak TJ into the room."

"Wait—what—why do I have to sneak the Sasquatch into the room?"

"Because."

Opening the passenger side door, Sam's eyes glinted. "Because is not a reason. And _how_ do I sneak it in?"

"Easy. Just pretend it's one of your dates who just happens to be extra hairy." Gathering their bags, Dean closed the trunk lid and sauntered toward Room 16.

"Oh haha. You're hilarious." After furtively looking around, Sam motioned for TJ to exit the backseat. Grimacing at the creature's eye-watering odor, Sam draped an arm around its shoulder to help him hobble to the room. They had just reached the open doorway and were about to cross the threshold when the door suddenly slammed shut. The wooden barrier just missed flattening his nose. Sam growled and knocked with his fist. When Dean opened the door, he stalked into the room all but dragging the poor Sasquatch with him.

"Slamming the door in my face! So not funny, dude!"

"I don't know what you're talking about; I didn't slam the door."

Sam's expression melded into full-on bitchface. "Yeah, right."

"Sam, I'm telling you I didn't slam the damn door. I was halfway across the room putting our bags down on the beds."

Hearing the ring of truth in Dean's words, Sam heaved a breath and apologized, "Sorry. I thought you were trying to be funny." He pulled a chair out from the tiny table and motioned for TJ to sit.

Dean shrugged. "Must've been the wind."

"So now what? Research?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. But first I think we need to give that thing like a bath or something. The whole room is starting to stink."

"A bath? Really?"

"Got any better suggestions?"

"Well, no…but…"

"C'mon, Sammy. We'll never be able to concentrate if our eyes are watering from the stench!"

Conceding the argument, Sam nodded and headed for the bathroom. "I'll run the water."

"Come on, TJ," Dean pointed first at TJ then at the bathroom, "let's get you…uh…cleaned up."

The brothers soon discovered that getting the giant creature into the small bathtub was something of an adventure...or a feat of creative engineering. Demonstrating exactly why Sam always showered after his growth spurt at the age of fourteen. For its part, the Sasquatch appeared to think it was all great fun. As the two men struggled to get it lathered up with Sam's shampoo, TJ slapped at the water with his hands, sending plumes of water cascading to and fro.

After another minute, Dean suddenly reared back. "Ummm…Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we can safely quit calling TJ an 'it'."

"Huh?"

"It's a HE. Definitely a 'he'."

"Wha?" Sam glanced at the foamy bathwater then jerked his gaze back to his older sibling. "OH. Uhh…you mean…"

Dean twitched. "Yeah."

Sam cleared his throat. "I think he's soapy enough, don't you? Let's get him rinsed."

Ten minutes later, the Winchester brothers, looking rather traumatized, exited the bathroom with a damp and super fluffy TJ trailing behind.

Dean swiped a hand through his wet hair. "Well, that was a bust. The bathroom's a disaster, we're completely drenched, and HE now smells like toe jam, wet dog, AND your frou frou Apple Honey Union shampoo."

"S'not Apple Honey; it's Coconut Lime Fusion…"

Dean huffed, jutted one hip to the side and rolled his eyes all at the same time. "What—ev—ver."

Without warning, a chair slid across the room and slammed into Sam's knees. Yelping, Sam doubled over and stumbled backwards a few steps. "What the—"

"Okay, _I_ did _not_ do _that_!" Dean snapped, strode forward and grabbed the offending furniture. It swung up and cracked his jaw. As he tossed it to the side, the light bulb in the ceiling light exploded and tiny bits of glass rained down. Jerking in the opposite direction, Dean glared up for a few seconds before turning to Sam.

Sam stood, transfixed, watching the show. It would have been outrageously funny, except it wasn't. TJ jumped up and down and clapped his hands; apparently to him it was funny.

"What the hell's going on?" growled Dean.

"Dean, count the coins."

"Huh?"

"Count the coins you pulled out in the cave."

"What—you think I took some? I didn't take any coins, Sam. Sheesh, you don't think I know better?" Crossing to his bed, Dean picked up the six-pack of beer and took out two, handed one to Sam then put the others in the small refrigerator.

"Then count the coins. Just to be sure." Sam twisted the top off his beer and took a long swig. "Humor me. HEY!" Pulling his arm across his chest, Sam moved away from TJ. "That's mine."

Dean snickered, "Why not give him some?"

"I dunno if that's a good idea. He's sort of big and if he gets drunk." Sam yanked the bottle closer to his body as TJ tried pulling it away. "I think you need water, big guy." TJ was insistent, however, and Sam ended up letting him have a sip of the brew.

"One drink isn't going to get him drunk." Dean dug in his pocket and extracted the seal coins, letting them drop onto the table. Going to his duffel, he pulled out the small cloth bag where the rest of the coins were kept and spread those alongside the others. Poking at them with his finger, he shoved them, two at a time to the side.

"Oh no, you have the rest." Sam made a face and handed over the beer bottle to TJ, certain he didn't want it after the thing had slobbered all over it. He got another from the fridge. Opening his second beer, Sam stood beside his brother, counting as Dean's finger moved the coins. "Dean, there're twenty-two.'

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, Sam I'm noticing that."

"We should only have twenty-one oh master of the road; I'm not an amateur but a professional hunter. I told you not to mess with them."

Glaring at him, Dean turned his upper lip up. "You told me…you told me…an honest mistake." Wrinkling his nose, Dean sniffed. Then coughed and gagged.

They both turned toward TJ who grinned and covered his mouth. A loud whooshing noise came from behind him.

Waving one hand in front of his nose, Sam rasped out, "I told you we shouldn't have given him beer."

"Again with the _I told you so_. Oh, God, that's—"

"Yeah." Sam sprinted to the window, and started cranking it open. The handle cranked off almost immediately and spun at Sam, clipping him in the forehead.

"What the—? Sam, you okay?" Dean crossed the room, pulled Sam away and snatched the window handle from him, throwing it to the side all in a few seconds. "Oh, crap. I think I know what's going on!"

"So try telling me!"

Something scurried between the beds. TJ bent down and looked between his knees, then looked back up at them and scratched at his nose. "Tis MY precious gold you dared to steal, pain your loved one now must feel." A voice boomed out, but it was impossible to know from which part of the room.

The duffels took flight and smashed into Sam making him stagger. Throwing both hands over his head as one slapped at his face, Sam was forced to his knees, shouting, "Loved one? Y-you're wrong! He—Dean—hates me!"

One duffel dropped to the floor, unzipped and a collection of knives flew out and straight at Sam. Going from zero to sixty in less than a few seconds, Dean sprinted across the room and tackled his brother to the floor as the knives flew overhead and embedded in the wall. Dean rolled to his knees and shoved Sam behind him then threw himself backward, shielding Sam once more as a volley of books rained down on them.

"I really do hate him!" Dean hollered to the room.

"Get off." Sam tried pushing onto his hands and knees, but Dean's hand firmly between his shoulder blades shoved him back down, face first, to the floor…hard. A loud _oommppfftt_ of air blew out of his lungs. "If whatever it is doesn't get me, you will." He grumbled and let his body go lax. There was no sense trying to fight off Dean _and_ whatever they'd picked up. Dean would win that overprotective battle every time.

Again something they couldn't see scurried over the carpet. TJ turned and followed the noise, lips pulling up in a snarl.

"Loved ones suffer then they die; loutish thieves I do decry."

The knives pulled loose and went at Sam again, the books flipped into the air and crashed down around him. Dean yanked him to his feet and pushed against his back, "Run, Sam, get out!"

"I'm not—"

The table upended and flew at him. TJ sidestepped and planted himself in front of Sam. Grabbing the creature's shoulder with one hand, Sam tried moving him out of the way. Great, now the mythical creatures were on Dean's side. "I don't need—"

TJ backed up, forcing Sam backward also. Neither of them stopped until Sam's spine impacted the door, fortunately the knob missed gouging into his kidney and merely brushed against his side.

More footsteps across the carpet before Dean's feet were suddenly yanked out from under him and he landed flat on his back. A small man, green derby atop his head and heavy black boots stood on Dean's chest, a dirk pressed to his throat.

Holding his hands to both sides, Dean stared at the thing. The thing stared back. "I knew it! You're a leprechaun!"

It nodded and stared at Dean, a sly smile on its face. "Aye, boyo, and what's mine is not yours. Back to me it goes."

"I don't know which one it is and I didn't steal."

"Mine is _not_ yours. Now what is yours dies, but not quickly does he go. Stop it only ye can do."

Bumping his head against the floor Dean turned to Sam and ground out, "Always with the Yoda crap? Why can't these stupid things speak plain English? Aaaahhhh…dude, stop." Dean squirmed a bit when the dirk pressed more heavily against his throat.

"Dean, we need to give back what it came for." Sam stood on tiptoe to look over TJ's shoulder.

The leprechaun nodded. "Gold back to me, in my very hand, and a usury penalty I do demand."

"Okay, dude," Using two fingers, Dean carefully moved the blade away from his throat. "Let me up and I'll get you yours." Scooting sideways, Dean wiggled away from the hideous little thing and sat up. Inching along the floor, he collected the seal coins and the one stray he'd accidentally put in his pocket. Holding it out to the leprechaun, Dean made a shooing motion with his hands. "Here's yours. It was a mistake, I didn't take it on purpose. No harm, no foul. Bye-bye."

Pointing the tip of the blade at the seal coins the leprechaun shook his head. "Those too. Gold, need gold for the dark days to come. Gold for the Devil."

Dean shook his head. "Oh, no. We need these." He held up one finger and grinned, digging in his pocket. "But, this? This is worth hundreds of those put together. It's very rare and has very powerful magic." He held out a gold dollar he'd picked up gambling in some bar a few weeks ago. "See how shiny and new it is?"

The leprechaun eyed it then reached out. Before its fingers could touch the coin, Dean snatched it back and held it in his fist. Carefully climbing to his feet, he stepped closer to TJ and Sam. "See, this here gold coin, there is only one. You leave my brother alone, let us go, and let me keep those worthless trinkets that are only worth sentimental value to Sam and me and you can have this." He held the dollar up between two fingers and turned it to and fro so it caught the light.

"Gold is what humans will come to us for afterward, after The Light comes from Hell. We will take our birthright place in the new world and your kind will grovel at our feet."

"You can't get anyone to do anything without this." Dean flipped the coin up and grabbed it out of the air.

The leprechaun cocked his head then held out his hand. "Brother free. Worthless trinkets yours. _That_ is mine."

"It's a deal?"

The leprechaun nodded and sheathed his dirk. Dean tossed the coin to him. When it touched his palm, both the coin and leprechaun vanished.

Pushing his way out from behind TJ, Sam looked around at the trashed room. "You know, you're good. You had me wanting a gold dollar too."

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Yeah. I never thought about it before, other things siding with Lucifer."

"Not just with Lucifer, Sammy, but against us. They want to help him so they can have humans as some sort of play toys."

"Like mob bosses." Sam sighed and began righting the room. This wasn't good, it simply couldn't be good, and it was bound to lead to even more trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

"So now what?" asked Sam.

"Well, as much as I was hopin' we were here till tomorrow morning, I think I better get the car fixed so we can get the hell out of here before that asshat Leprechaun realizes that coin I gave him is only worth a buck and comes back." Dean prodded at the small cut the dirk had made on his neck. It was still stinging and the trickle of drying blood itched. Grabbing dry jeans and a t-shirt from his duffel, he headed for the bathroom to wash it off and change.

"So you can fix the car? It seemed pretty bad." Over the sound of running water, Sam heard Dean scoff.

"Of course I can," the older Winchester exited the bathroom patting at his neck with the bottom of the t-shirt he wore. "I just need to go get the parts."

Grabbing his own duffel bag, Sam said, "Lemme change and we can go."

"Uh uh. I'll go. You have to stay here with him," Dean hooked a thumb at the Sasquatch who was tossing one of the bed pillows in the air and catching it.

"What! No! We can all go."

Dean chuckled at the look of near panic on his little brother's face. "Not a good idea. It might take me awhile to find a garage or a parts store and with the car the way it is… Trust me, you better stay here with him." Dean grabbed his keys from the nightstand.

"But what am I supposed to do with him?"

Moving toward the door, Dean mused, "I dunno…feed him, pet him, groom him, clip his nails…" Again, he chuckled. "Just don't give him any more beer!" With that, Dean quickly slipped out of the room and closed the door.

"Great," Sam mumbled out loud with a scowl on his face, "I'm babysitter to a big hairy beast. Now what do I do with him?" He watched TJ, who was still playing catch with the pillow, for a few seconds. Deciding the Sasquatch was enthralled with his own makeshift game, Sam decided to change and spend some time on his laptop. Several minutes later he was ensconced at the small table, booting up the computer. He was just about to call up a search engine when a long, hairy finger entered his line of vision and began tapping at random keys. The computer beeped irritably. Grabbing the hand, Sam pushed it away and scolded, "No, TJ, no you can't play with this; it's not a toy."

TJ huffed out a sound between a whine and a growl and reached out again for the computer keyboard.

Sam intercepted the hand. "No!" Thinking quickly, Sam stood. "Here, I have an idea." He pulled TJ with him and motioned for him to sit down on the bed. "You can watch TV, okay? You might like that."

The hunter flipped on the appliance and a burst of noise, specifically gunfire, filled the room. He wasn't prepared, however, when TJ loudly squealed and jumped up, arming him aside. Sam hit the floor with a pained grunt. After a few seconds to recover his breath, Sam slowly regained his feet, eyes immediately locating the Sasquatch who was cowering in the corner. Sam rolled his eyes and muttered, "You gotta be kidding…"

Approaching slowly, the hunter soothed, "It's okay. It's okay, TJ. It's just a television." He helped the creature to his feet and brought him back to the bed. "See, you just sit and watch." Sam sat down, pulling TJ down next to him and patting his back. "Just watch." Sam pointed. "See all the stuff happening on the screen?" He grabbed the remote and flipped through channels, stopping on a cartoon when TJ began to clap. "Good. Now that you got the hang of it, you can watch cartoons while I'm on the computer."

An hour and a half later, over the cartoon antics playing out on the TV, Sam heard the rumble of the Impala returning. He glanced up when Dean sauntered through the door and said, "Well, isn't this a cozy little family scene?"

Sam flipped him off and stood.

"I brought food." Dean waggled the bags he carried. The smell of grilled meat began to fill the room and TJ looked up eagerly, nose twitching.

As Dean unwrapped one of the cheeseburgers and handed it to the Sasquatch, Sam asked, "Did you get the parts for the car?"

"Yep," muttered Dean around a bite of his own sandwich, "Lucked out. There was a parts place pretty nearby. Burger joint was next door."

"How long will it take you to fix the Impala?" Sam unwrapped his own burger and took a bite.

"Don't know…Dude, no way—this is mine!" Dean pulled his cheeseburger out of TJ's reach. "You had yours!"

Sam similarly guarded his food when TJ turned a pleading gaze on him. "Looks like he's still hungry."

"Yeah. Give him your fries."

"No way! You give him yours!"

In the end, both brothers turned over their French fries to the creature and watched him devour them with obvious, if not disgusting, delight. TJ looked between the brothers occasionally and grinned, residual ketchup from the fries smeared across his furry face. Dean glanced at his brother and grimaced. "Don't ever rag on me about the way I eat again." Downing the last of his cola, Dean stood and stretched. "Guess I better get to work on my baby."

-0-

Dean was under the front of the car working away and humming Metallica when he felt a tug on his ankle. He jerked then swore when his forehead connected painfully with the underbelly of the car. The tugging came again. "What the hell?" he muttered as he scooted out from under the car. He came face-to-face with a smiling Sasquatch. Wiping his grease-covered hands on his t-shirt, Dean shot Sam a glare over the creature's shoulder. "Dude, why the hell is he out here?"

Sam scowled right back. "I had to let him come outside."

"Why?"

"Because he…he had to pee."

Dean rolled to his feet. "How'd you figure that one out?"

"You don't want to know."

Dean decided he really didn't and rubbed at the still sore spot on his forehead.

"I took him around back and when he was done he just kinda ran over here. I think he wants to play."

"Peachy. So go play with him inside." Dean grinned. "Now that sounded all kinds of wrong."

Sam huffed. "Dude, you're sick—you know that."

"No…I'm funny."

"More like you _think_ you're funny. I may have found a situation we can check into a few towns over from here."

"Awesome," Dean deadpanned. He patted the Impala affectionately. "I should have her up and running pretty soon."

"Good." Sam herded TJ back toward their room. "C'mon, TJ, let's go see what Scooby-Doo is up to."

Dean snorted and dropped to the ground, wiggling back under the Impala with ease. When he scooted back out to the dimming sunlight a few hours later, the car was once again in tip top running shape. Finally they were on their way far from the Leprechaun and his gold coins and antics.

The town Sam had found to check out, quite innocuously named Dull Hill, seemed pretty normal and boring on first inspection, giving Dean doubts about Sam's hunt-finding abilities this time. His abilities to find a motel that offered 'your pets stay free' was working just fine, however.

"So what's so special about this town?" Dean asked, settling at the table while Sam spread out their food. This time they'd bought larger quantities and portions for their furry friend.

Before Sam could answer, he was up and diving at the bed where he's put his laptop. TJ was poking at the keys. "No. I told you before, _no_!"

Whimpering, the creature backed away, thumped his own chest and made some odd noise sounding like a cross between a bark and a purr. Dean leaned over and squinted at the computer screen. "Sam."

Taking TJ's hand, Sam led him to the other bed and clicked on the TV. "You play with this."

"Sam." Dean stood and reached out, grabbing Sam's arm, shaking him. He turned Sam and pointed to the computer. "Thing spells better than you do."

Staring first at the computer then Dean, Sam rolled his eyes and hit Dean's shoulder, making him laugh. TJ apparently thought that great fun and hit Dean's other shoulder, knocking him on his ass. Snickering, Sam covered his mouth with one hand and held the other out to Dean.

Pulling up on Sam's hand, Dean rubbed his back and nodded again to the computer. "Sound it out."

There were letters across the bottom of the notes Sam had been working on. "Ma…no…me lk…like…"

"U…you," Dean finished. Turning to Sam he shrugged and smiled. "He likes us."

Sam looked back and forth between his brother and the Sasquatch. "You know what's even more strange? He can type."

TJ jumped up and down, clapping.

When full darkness set in outside, they decided it was safe enough to pile TJ into the Impala and check out the town. It was an oddly active town, but Dean noticed right away what had tipped Sam off. The children of the town, and he did mean children, none of them were more than fifteen or sixteen, seemed completely on their own. Everyone else, the older teens and adults up to the elderly stayed to the sidelines or to the shadows.

There didn't seem to be a large amount of violent crimes, simply kids being kids, but at late hours. Every retail or food place they passed had kids swarming all over it, taking whatever they pleased. No one seemed to notice or care. Dean slowed the car to a crawl and Sam stuck his cell phone out the passenger side window, snapping a few pictures.

Pulling into the fairly empty parking lot of a library, Dean leaned over to see the pictures on the small screen. They spent a few minutes squinting at the pictures as Sam slowly scrolled through them.

"There, did you see that? Go back one." Dean pointed to the phone.

Nodding, Sam did as asked, and they both hunched over the phone, scrutinizing the picture. "Let's go back to the motel and put this up on the laptop, we can see it easier that way."

Dean nodded and restarted the car, pulled out onto the street and drove back to their motel. A few minutes waiting for TJ to do what he needed behind the motel and they went inside, booted up the laptop and Sam transferred the images there. As soon as they started scrolling through and hit the second picture both brothers groaned.

"I knew this place was creepy, but I didn't expect this." Dean stood, arms crossed over his chest, staring down at the screen.

TJ tapped Dean's shoulder, frowned, and lowered his head.

Eyebrows shooting up, Sam couldn't help being impressed. "Dean, he's asking us if it's bad. I think."

TJ nodded and pointed to the picture on the screen.

"Dude, it's not just bad, it's _really_ bad. That," Dean sighed and pointed to the picture, "is a shapeshifter."

When TJ frowned and shrugged, spreading his hands wide, Sam pointed to the eyes. "See there, how his eyes look different from mine and Dean's. See how they sort of glow? That's because that man isn't a man, he's a shapeshifter."

TJ studied the picture then looked up at the brothers. He suddenly folded his hands over his heart and smiled then TJ put his hands next to his ears, fingers forming "claws" and growled. He repeated this action a couple of times.

Sam finally nodded his head. "I think he gets it. And he's telling us he's good and they're—the shapeshifters—are bad."

Dean patted the hairy beast's shoulder then motioned for TJ to sit on the bed. "Well, that's great and very enlightening and all but the question is now—what the hell do we do about this? How do we take out almost a whole town of shapeshifters? We can't stab them all."

The younger Winchester dropped into the chair in front of his laptop. "True. But I might have an idea. Let me do a little research first. I do wonder why there's such a concentration of them like this." Sam hit the touch pad on the computer.

"Who cares? They all need to be ganked."

"But why here? Why now? It's gotta mean something, Dean."

Dean stared absently at the TV screen for a few seconds. "Okay, I've got my own idea on how to find that out." He waved a hand at the computer. "You do your thing here. I'll be back."

It was a little more than an hour before Dean returned to the room, arms spattered with blood and face awash with soot. Sam looked at him with concern. "So what happened? What'd you do?"

The older hunter shrugged as he passed into the bathroom to wash up. "Motel clerk was one of 'em. He and I had a little talk before I sent him on his way."

"And?"

"And remember how the Leprechaun wanted valuables to use for bargaining after the Apocalypse?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the shapeshifters are trying to do the exact same thing, but with human children instead of gold coins." Dean's voice was grim.

"Shit," Sam breathed, his gut clenching.

Dean walked back into the room wiping his arms and face with a towel. "Yeah. The good news is it admitted that the kids' real parents are still alive so we can find them and let them go. But we need to wipe out all the shapeshifters first. Did you come up with anything?"

"Colloidal silver."

"What?"

"Colloidal silver. It's a liquid suspension of microscopic silver particles. I think we can 'poison' the town's water supply with it. It won't hurt any humans, but it sure as hell will affect shapeshifters."

"And it'll kill them all?"

"No, I don't think we could add enough to kill them. But, it will weaken them enough that we can round them up."

"Then what?"

"Then we start a fire."

"So we burn them to death?"

Sam shook his head. "Once we have them all in one place, we start a fire using old film reels."

"What?"

"Old reels of film are highly combustible and silver nitrate was used to make the film. Eastman Kodak is the top consumer of silver in the world. The smoke from the fire should be toxic to the shapeshifters. The fire will take care of the piles of goo."

"Sounds like a plan. So where do we get the colloidal silver and old reels of film."

"That's the easy part. We can get the colloidal silver at any health food store and there's an old movie theater in town. I saw it when we drove through. I'm hoping they have some old films stored somewhere."

It took almost three days, but Sam's plan worked like a charm. One by one, the shapeshifters dropped like flies; the colloidal silver weakening them. The brothers, aided by one surprisingly helpful Sasquatch, rounded them up and imprisoned them on an old, abandoned farmstead. When they had them all, the Winchesters unspooled numerous reels of film, fashioned several wicks, and Sam lit the matches. The dilapidated barns went up with a tremendous whoosh and roar.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

"He's not limping anymore."

"Huh?" Sam rolled over and sat up, scratching at his chest. Pulling his tee away from his body he sniffed at it and wrinkled his nose. "Smoke and burnt silver nitrate. Great."

Dean nodded at TJ, sitting in front of the TV, tossing a pillow up and down. "The limp is gone."

Sam's gaze left his apparently very fascinating t-shirt and wandered over to TJ. "Oh."

"Dude," Dean grumbled and threw a pillow at Sam's head. "We can't have a dog let alone a…a…him…that." He watched as the Sasquatch picked up the pillow he'd just thrown and began to hit himself over the head with it, laughing all the while. Dean couldn't stop a quick grin.

"I know." Sam's fascination with his shirt was now focused on his bed. "I know," he repeated softly.

"Right." Dean nodded and pulled on his boots. "So, it's now time for the release part of our catch and release wildlife rehab program." Standing, he crossed the room to the table and booted up their laptop. "Hey, TJ." Dean waved in a _come_ _here_ motion when TJ dropped the pillow and looked at him.

Pulling his lips up in what Dean knew to be an attempt at a smile, but looked more like a pained grimace, TJ trotted across the room and stopped beside Dean. Sam's eyes tracked the creature's movement, otherwise he stayed still.

Dean opened a document and patted TJ's shoulder. "You know you can't stay with us forever, right? We like you. You're a good guy, we'll keep in touch, but you have to go home."

TJ nodded, reaching out with one arched claw he typed, "yEss." Folding both hands over his heart he bowed his head.

"We'll miss you too," Sam said quietly from the bed.

"We'll come visit. We will. We promise. Right, Sammy?"

Sam nodded. TJ looked from Dean to Sam and back again.

"But we sorta got some stuff to take care of first." Dean waved at the laptop. "Do you live near where we…uh….found you?"

TJ nodded. He reached out and carefully typed the words, "YeS, iN WOods ddOwn rOAD."

An hour later two glum young men and a sad Sasquatch piled into the car, Dean swore that even the Impala was sad, but facts were facts. Other people would either want to kill TJ or make a science project out of him. Letting him stay with them would be unfair and likely prove dangerous to them all.

He wasn't kidding when he said they would visit, Dean fully intended to make good on that promise. He knew Sam would give him no argument. They left the town and took the long way around back to the spot they'd first found TJ, not wanting to run into the nasty little guy who wanted gold coins. As the sun drifted overhead and they drove deeper into the woods, sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves above, casting long shadows over the road and surrounding woods.

Rubbing at his eyes, Dean decided the light must be playing tricks, or he was more tired than he thought. Little blue flashes winked on and off in a split second. Every time he tried to turn to get a better look they were gone.

"Must be how the sunlight reflects the leaves," Sam mumbled, echoing Dean's thoughts.

"What?"

"I keep seeing bluish flashes, but nothing is there. It's like as soon as I see them and try to get a good look they disappear, and they're only at the edge of my vision."

TJ tapping Dean's shoulder and pointing drew his attention from his brother's words and the odd feeling in his stomach. Pulling off to the side of the road, Dean cut the engine and twisted in his seat. "Here?"

TJ nodded and sat back in the seat, arms crossed over his chest, head hanging.

"We will come visit you. Every chance we get, but do you really want to spend your life hiding out in a shit-hole motel room?" Dean reached over the seat and pinged the creature's forehead.

"He's right," Sam chimed in. "We wouldn't want you getting hurt because of us."

TJ huffed and put one massive, clawed hand on the door. Casting a brief glance at his brother, Dean sighed and climbed out of the car, hearing Sam's door creak open and gently shut in time with his own. He opened TJ's door and let him out. Looking over the top of the car at Sam, Dean expected to see him watching TJ and him, not looking out at the woods, hand over his eyes, gazing up.

Rapping his knuckles against the car Dean asked, "Sam, what are you doing, looking for fairy dust?"

"I keep seeing blue flashes, but nothing is there." Sam's voice was as close to a whine as it'd been in a long while and Dean had to bit his lower lip to keep the smile from easing over his face.

"Later." He moved around the car to stand beside Sam, waiting for TJ to join them. Sam gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything else about the blue lights. They stood against the Impala and watched TJ amble through the woods, going farther away. Twice he turned to wave at them, they waved back. Shoving away from the car, Dean patted Sam's shoulder, "As soon as this Apocalypse crap is done, we'll come back, bring him a burger and some beer since we'll all be out in the fresh open air."

"Yeah," Sam said, turning his upper body to look around them. "The light here is weird. I guess it's my imagination."

"Not unless I'm imagining the same thing. Little blue balls that form and as soon as you try to really see them they evaporate?"

"Uh huh." Sam nodded.

Turning away from Sam, Dean scanned the area again. "Not much we can do if there is nothing to look for. Let's get outta here."

They drove in silence for a few miles before Sam suddenly straightened in his seat, pointing out the window. "Dean, you see—?"

"Yeah, I see her. What the hell? I didn't see any stranded vehicles, did you?"

Sam simply shook his head, already reaching in the back seat for their smaller first aid kit. Staggering along the side of the road was a woman. She'd obviously been in some kind of accident. She was tall, with wavy chestnut hair and pale gray eyes. That Dean saw plainly even though she was a few yards from them, walking toward them. He pulled the car over and cut the engine, grabbing a blanket as he got out of the car.

Sam was already out and trotting down the road to the woman. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She stopped and took a step back, which made Dean snicker a bit. Poor Sam tended to forget he was six and a half feet tall which often times caused him to literally loom over people, especially women. Stopping in his tracks, Sam asked softly, "Do you need help?"

The woman gave them a wide-eyed nod, backing up another step when Dean joined them. He silently held out the blanket. She reached out with a shaking, manicured hand sporting opalescent nails and no jewelry. Her clothes looked as if they cost more than everything Dean and Sam owned, including their classic car. She wore a pale blue silky blouse, which had a tear over one shoulder—he saw bruised skin underneath—and very dark blue, elegantly cut pants with fancy, thick heeled boots peeking out from the hem.

"I—I'm lost," she stumbled over the words before drawing herself up and meeting them square in the eye.

"Are you hurt?" Sam held out the first aid kit. "We've got some bandages and stuff."

"And stuff, very suave there, Sammy." Dean stepped forward, wrapping the blanket around the woman's petite shoulders. "Ignore my incredibly smooth talking _kid_ brother. C'mon," he steered her at the car. "We'll take you to town."

"I'm taller," Sam snorted and shoved against Dean's shoulder as he walked by.

The woman settled in the back, they started driving once again. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror at her. "Were you in a car accident? Do you live around here?"

"There's a storm coming," she mumbled and looked out the window with a sort of vacant stare that gave Dean the shivers.

By the way Sam shifted in the seat beside him he figured he wasn't the only one creeped out by her. Removing one hand from the steering wheel, he let it slide along the seat until he tapped Sam's leg. When his brother looked over, Dean dipped his head ever so slightly at the glove compartment. Sam drew in a long breath, shifted in his seat again, reached out and silently let the door drop open. He'd have quick and easy access to the gun there if needed.

Leaning forward, Sam squinted out the windshield, hand moving to the dash, one finger pointing to the right. "I don't remember that on the way here, are we going the right direction?" A small cabin sat ten or fifteen yards from the road, a winding drive leading up to it.

Dean rolled his eyes then his shoulders. "We've been on the same road all along, Sam. We only got two directions to pick from and since we turned around after we…after then we're going the right direction."

"Men never want to ask for directions." The woman leaned forward a bit and whispered in Sam's direction, as if imparting on him the secrets of the universe.

"There are no directions to ask for and I ask for directions when the situation calls for it."

"No you don't," Sam said. "Shouldn't we be close to the town now?"

"It should be just over that hill," Dean said. Jerking his head around, he looked at the roadside as they drove by. "Wait—that's the same cabin."

"Okay, now we both know we didn't turn around, so what—?" Sam's words died, right along with the car engine. He seemed to be ignoring Dean's mumbled comments about pain in the ass little brothers and their pain in the ass huge, furry pets.

Sam pulled out his cell phone, put it to his ear and shook his head. Dean tried his; the thing was deader than most ghosts they hunted. Pushing the car door open, Dean sighed and swung out of the car, trying his phone again. Waving at Sam to get out, he opened the back passenger door, leaned down and spoke to the woman, "Looks like we'll have to walk the rest of the way to town, it should only be a mile or two. Think you can do that okay?"

Shaking her head, long hair waving gently over her shoulders she looked very disappointed. "Men never want to ask directions."

"Lady," Dean literally sputtered, "we only got two directions to pick from, to town," he pointed with one hand to town. "And away from town." He held his other arm out, pointing in the opposite direction. When Sam barked a quick laugh from the other side of the car, Dean straightened, pulled his hands in to rest on his hips, and glared at him.

She slid across the seat and inched out of the car. "My name is Lucy." She held out one hand, which Dean took and guided her to the roadside. "You seem like a nice boy, but you really should learn to ask for directions."

Dean ground his teeth together. Sam bit his lower lip and grabbed their emergency supply duffel from the back seat, slinging it over his shoulder, grinning at Dean like he'd just won the lottery.

Setting off down the road in the _correct_ direction to town, Dean's irritation turned to something more like apprehension. He glanced sideways at Sam a few times, each time meeting his brother's eyes. Sam was looking over at him as much as he was looking forward. With every passing mile, Sam's expression became less amused and more grim.

The fact was they shouldn't have been walking this far. They really shouldn't have passed that stupid cabin three more times, each time it was on the opposite side as it had been the time before. Even a stupid hunter would see there was something odd going on, and neither Dean nor Sam were stupid.

When they walked by the cabin for the fourth time, Lucy whispered, "men never ask for directions."

Sam's hand landed on Dean's arm and he shook his head before Dean could spew out more remarks about a road that only had two directions. When the wind picked up and the temperature slithered down, they both looked all around them. There were no wisps of white mist, no ghostly figures, nothing that usually appeared with dropping temps.

Freezing rain began pelting down on them with enough force Dean heard the drops plunk off leaves on the trees and the ground. He looked up, wiping the cold moisture from his face. "Perfect. Just damn perfect."

"Uh, Dean." Sam waved one hand to his right and gave Dean a half-hearted smile, along with a quick head shake.

"Of course." The cabin stood there, ready for three cold, tired, desperate people. "Whatever you do, don't eat any cookies if some old lady offers them to us."

They trudged down the winding drive and stepped onto the low front porch of the cabin. It was a nice place, in other circumstances Dean might have found it pleasant. It was a log cabin, though one of the newer, prefab type kind. There was a low porch all the way around and the walk was lined with flowers. The whole picture annoyed the crap out of Dean.

It was a big, fat trap and he knew it. The way Sam stood looking the cabin up and down, side to side told Dean the same thoughts were running through his brother's head.

Turning the doorknob, Dean slowly opened the door and walked inside, gun drawn. A quick but intent glance around the one-room cabin proved it to be empty as far as Dean could tell. He moved further inside and motioned for Sam and Lucy to follow him. The austere interior didn't look at all sinister, yet the hair on the back of his neck continued to stand at attention. When all remained still and quiet, Dean, somewhat reluctantly, returned the gun to its normal spot at the small of his back. "Nice place." And it was. Just as pin neat and attractive inside as out even with the token amount of furniture. Swiping a hand across his face to wipe away the cold moisture left by the freezing rain, Dean muttered, "Might as well make ourselves at home."

From behind Dean, Lucy spoke. "Do you really think we should? I mean, what about the owners…"

"Lady, I definitely think we should. Any port in a storm as they say. And I'm cold, wet," Dean paused when his stomach growled, "and hungry. So, yeah, we're making ourselves at home."

"I really don't think the owners will mind," interjected Sam. "We're not going to hurt anything."

While Sam busied himself lighting a couple of oil lamps left sitting on a small table near the door, Dean gathered the makings of a fire, stacking several logs on the grate. He'd just about finished when a sharp edge on the grate bit into the side of his hand leaving a substantial gouge. "Ow, dammit."

Glancing over his shoulder, Sam called out, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean scowled and pressed his hand against his thigh. "It's just a cut."

An odd gasp from Lucy drew their attention. Her gaze was locked on Dean.

Uncomfortable, Dean shifted from foot to foot. "Really, it's just a cut." He watched Sam move closer to him out of the corner of his eye.

The woman's gaze traveled to the ruby red gash, and she suddenly inhaled, her nostrils flaring. She licked her lips. "Hmmm. Too bad. I was hoping for a little more foreplay."

The Winchesters glanced at each other in confusion before focusing once again on Lucy. Wary, they both straightened and stood tall.

"Listen, lady," growled Dean, "I don't know what you're into, but we don't swi—" Dean's bluff was cut off as a gust of preternatural wind swirled through the cabin and three things happened simultaneously. The cabin walls deteriorated—turning into nothing more than dilapidated slats. What had been a cozy interior lay in ruin. The young woman they knew as Lucy changed before their eyes, all signs of bruising and torn clothing faded away. And the glowing blue orbs of light they thought they'd been glimpsing suddenly appeared, hovering near "Lucy".

Dean and Sam both made a move for their weapons; however, Lucy's simple hand gesture was faster and the blue orbs, comet tails of a lighter blue trailing behind, suddenly surrounded the brothers. In a blink, the blue lights spiraled round and round each hunter, restraining them in gossamer threads of glowing blue.

Dean immediately struggled against the bonds as did Sam. A wave of lethargy swept through both Winchesters and they dropped to their knees.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered. "What're you doing?"

Lucy smiled, and it wasn't a pretty smile. "You can just call me a collector. A special kind of—oh, let's say tax—collector." She walked closer to the hunters.

"A collector? And just what do you collect?" The elder hunter growled.

"Blood."

"Blood? Why?"

"What are you really?" Sam cut in, an analytical quality to his voice.

"Ooohhh, very clever, Saaam. Who said hunters were dumb?" Again the shark smile flashed. "Technically, I'm a loogaroo."

"LOOgaroo? Is that like the pansy-assed version of a rugaru?"

Lucy backhanded Dean across the mouth then admired the trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his lip. She leaned in and touched the tip of her tongue to the ruby smear. "No."

Dean looked at her in disgust as her eyes rolled back with pleasure.

"So sweet."

"Why do you say 'technically'?" Sam drew her attention away from his brother with his question.

Lucy tilted her head to the side, as if contemplating the answer. "I suppose you could say I've gone rogue."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Loogaroos, as I'm sure you know being hunters extraordinaire, are in league with the devil. We give him blood every night; he gives us our magical abilities." A wicked looking knife appeared in one of Lucy's hands and a large, ornate bowl appeared in the other. "I…well, I took it a step or two further, you see. I made a new deal. A better deal. I collect more blood than others like me. I feed his particular addiction. And after the coming End, I shall sit at Lucifer's right hand, a valued partner."

The Winchesters exchanged glances before Sam spoke again. "So you're basically swearing fealty to the Devil with blood payments for a better life after the Apocalypse."

Lucy laughed. "Exactly."

"Dream on, sister," muttered Dean. "He ain't gonna remember…or care."

"Oh, he will. I'll get bonus points for premium stuff like yours." Lucy moved closer to Sam and raised the knife.

"How'd you know we were hunters?" called Dean, hoping to distract her.

It didn't work. The knife bit into Sam's arm and he cried out before gritting his teeth. Lucy turned to Dean. "You cut your hand. I could smell it."

"What?"

"We've learned that adrenalin and other chemicals make most blood taste sweet. The sweeter the more addictive. And hunters—ooohhh, hunters have the sweetest blood of all with just a hint of spice." The knife bit into Dean's arm. Lucy then raised the bloody blade to her lips and licked, a look of rapture crossing her face.

"You can take all of mine then. I've been hunting longer than him. Leave Sam alone." Dean renewed his weak struggles.

"No!" Sam protested. "Take mine."

"How cute! Sticking up for each other." She singsonged. "But no. This—THIS—is my crowning moment. This will make me his Queen!" With a mad glint in her eye, Lucy thrust the knife forward, only to stop short of her target as she suddenly staggered. A look of confusion alighted across her face. Her current façade faded away for a second or two revealing her true form. "No!" Her two faces wavered back and forth and the blue lights restraining the brothers flickered. Lucy dropped the knife and bowl, clenched her fists, and closed her eyes. More blue orbs appeared in the cabin. The flickering stopped. Swaying slightly, the loogaroo sighed and bent to pick up her weapon. Before she could straighten, the flickering began again. "No! This can't be right," gasped Lucy.

Looking around, Dean muttered, "What's happening?"

"Dean, I think—I think she's having trouble controlling everything!" answered Sam.

"No, no! That's not true, my power remains strong!" The hollowness in her voice belied her words. "I'll be invincible once I give HIM your blood!" Her swaying became more pronounced.

Sam eyed her shrewdly, mind racing. "I think I know what's happening. You've been giving Lucifer shapeshifter blood for who knows how long. And since it's not human blood, the magical powers he's been granting you aren't as strong as they could be. Right?"

"NO!"

"And you're having trouble locking two of us down at once," he continued.

"Nononononono," Lucy screeched.

As the glowing blue restraints dimmed and wavered, the sapphire spheres snapped back to Lucy and began to coalesce. The orb grew. The restraints faded.

Both Dean and Sam broke free as the blue lines disappeared completely. The brothers dived forward, knocking Lucy into the blue mass. She screamed long and loud. The blue hole imploded, and she was gone in the blink of an eye.

The brothers stared at each other, mirror images of dishevelment, weariness, and chagrin. Blood dripped off their hands in alternating drops. Dean finally shook his head. "Let's get out of here." He grabbed their duffel.

It wasn't a terribly long walk back to the Impala now that the repetitious illusion had stopped looping. Dean sighed happily as they approached the car. They were almost at her front bumper when the moon peeked out from behind a cloud and Dean stiffened, reaching for his gun. There was someone sitting in the backseat.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

"What the—?" Dean stomped around the Impala to the back driver's side door and yanked it open. "Dude! Seriously, we have been over this. You _cannot_ stay with us. We'll come back and visit. Hell, we'll even spring for the beer, but you need to go home. You do have a home, right?"

TJ nodded solemnly, crossed both arms over his chest, dipped his chin and pouted. _Pouted_! He looked like Sam.

"Damn thing pouts like you too," Dean grumbled and sidestepped just far enough that Sam's punch aimed at his shoulder did nothing but skim through thin air. Snorting and giving Sam a sidelong glance, Dean pulled his gun free and waved it at TJ. "Out! Now! Or I'll shoot your fuzzy ass and drag you out."

Sam darted forward, sliding between Dean and the car. He huffed out an exasperated breath. "You're not shooting him." He turned and looked over his shoulder at TJ. "He's not shooting you. Dean put the gun away."

TJ made a growling noise and pushed out of the car, lumbering to his full height. He shook his head and patted the top of the Impala.

"Hey, watch the paint job. Don't you have a family? Friends?" Dean leaned forward and ran one hand over the top of the car, ensuring himself there were no claw marks.

Nodding, TJ rumbled a soft noise, touched his chest then Sam's then Dean's.

"Yeah, we're your friends," agreed Dean, "but, dude, you can't stay with us. You'd seriously stick out like a sore thumb."

TJ grunted and repeated his earlier gesture, poking Dean's chest three times and Sam's twice. He then patted his own chest twice and the air next to him three times before pointing into the forest.

"Wait—you have a brother? Dean, I think he's saying he has a brother, like we do."

"Good." Taking TJ by the arm, Dean started leading him toward the edge of the road. "I bet your brother is worried about you and misses you and is looking for you so, taa taa."

TJ did his best imitation of a smirk, shrugged his shoulders, and nodded. He followed along with Dean—for about three steps. Digging in his heels and planting his feet, TJ came to a complete stop. Dean, forward momentum still going strong was yanked backwards and nearly fell over. TJ pointed to the car and shook his head.

"I don't think he's leaving, Dean."

Straightening his spine and regaining his somewhat frayed composure, Dean glared at Sam and TJ. "Lemme guess—_he's_ the snot-nosed _little_ brother."

When TJ jumped up and down, clapping his hands, Sam snickered then wiped the back of one hand over his mouth and turned away, mumbling, "I knew I liked him for a good reason."

"I already have one little brother; I sure didn't sign on for two. You," he pointed to Sam. "In the car. You," he turned and aimed the same finger at TJ. "Back in the woods, go home where you belong. Find your own big brother and annoy him."

When Sam just shook his head and opened the car door, sliding inside, Dean did the same. They both turned when the car rocked and the driver's side back door slammed closed. They stared at the Sasquatch. TJ, arms crossed over his chest again, stared back. Dean gripped the steering wheel, leaned forward and banged his forehead against it a few times.

"You know, Dean, we've got bigger problems than a hairy beast in the back seat."

Turning his head to look at Sam, Dean huffed and sat up. "That sounds so wrong." He rolled down his window. Opening the car door and getting out, Dean muttered, "Okay, fine."

"Where are you going?" Sam was out of the car, sprinting to the other side.

TJ peeked out of the window, shrugged, opened his door and got out.

Dean was _not_ going to be outsmarted by an overgrown, stinky version of an ewok.

"Here's the thing, we've just been informed by three," Dean held up three fingers and started to pace. "Count them, _three_ different supernatural beings who probably would rather kill one another than look at each other," He paced closer to the car, reached in the front driver's side window and wound his arm around so he could press down on the lock of the back door, "that the Apocalypse is coming, and they've all admitted to doing something to gain favor with Lucifer and side with him."

"Yeah." Sam frowned, watching Dean as he moved back and forth near the car. "That can't be good. Fighting them is going to be really difficult until we can identify them and…" His words trailed off when Dean took his arm and ushered him around the car to the passenger side, opening the door.

"Get in," Dean hissed in Sam's ear ignoring the odd look he got from his little brother he gave Sam a shove toward the car.

"Will you quit shoving me!" blurted Sam, digging his heels in like TJ had moments before.

"No. _He_," Dean pointed at the Sasquatch, "needs to go home—HIS home—and _we_ need to get on the road."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, I just…" Sam's words were cut off when TJ let out a gusty sigh, batted Dean to the side, and grabbed Sam. With uncanny ease, the Sasquatch tossed Sam up on his shoulder, spun around, and jogged away from the Impala. Sam yelped at the sudden, unexpected change in altitude and orientation. He thrashed around but TJ had too good a hold on him for it to make the least bit of difference.

"Sonuva—" Regaining his balance, Dean lunged after them.

-0-

Hanging limply in an awkward inverted V position, Sam squeezed his eyes shut as the flora and fauna whizzed by making him increasingly dizzy. With the beast's shoulder pressing painfully into his diaphragm, the young hunter found himself progressively more short of breath, and the rank fur fanning across his face did little to help the situation. "Uhh, TJ," he wheezed, "y-you c-can put me down now. Really. I-I…I'll…we'll…" The Sasquatch's grip tightened and he picked up speed. Sam shut up and held on for dear life. A stray piece of fur tickled his nose and Sam let out an explosive sneeze, accidently thumping his face on the Sasquatch's muscular back during the inevitable recoil.

After what seemed like an eternity, the young hunter felt TJ slow and finally came to a halt. The creature slowly lowered Sam to his feet, and he stood swaying, a little dizzy and somewhat nauseous after his wild ride. Gaze roaming the small clearing, Sam stood drawing in deep breaths, absently noting the acrid tang of wood smoke somewhere nearby. His head jerked to the right as Dean came crashing through the trees, not stopping until he was less than a foot away.

Careening to a halt with a bit of a backpedal, Dean scowled at both the Sasquatch and his little brother, harsh breaths sawing in and out of overworked lungs. "What. The. Hell?"

"Guess he wanted us to come with him," muttered Sam, shrugging.

The older Winchester bent over and rested his hands on his knees, still panting heavily. "At least you got to go for the ride," he groused.

Sam rubbed at his abused abdomen. "Yeah. Some ride. Next time _you_ take the Sasquatch Express and I'll run."

TJ threw back his head and let loose with a loud warble. After a few long seconds, the surrounding underbrush rattled and rustled before a couple of dozen or so other Sasquatches tentatively entered the clearing and surrounded Sam, Dean, and TJ.

Dean's gaze flew to Sam then back to the creatures surrounding them. "Uh, should we be worried?" He instinctively moved closer to his brother, unconsciously falling into a hunter's stance.

Sam contemplated their situation with a slight frown. "I don't," he hesitated, "I don't think so."

TJ grinned wide, showing a plethora of sharp teeth. He chortled and warbled, pointed an emphatic finger at the humans. Then without warning, he clapped the two hunters on their backs causing them to stumble forward with the force of such enthusiastic camaraderie.

One Sasquatch, with darker fur than TJ's, detached himself from the crowd and strode forward. When he reached TJ, a long arm shot out delivering a blow to the shorter Sasquatch's shoulder. As if that were a signal, the two suddenly hit the ground, rolling around and wrestling in a full-on tussle, what sounded like an odd sort of laughter filling the air.

Sam glanced at Dean. "I'm guessing that must be the brother."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah and I remember many a time when we solved our issues just like that too."

When the wrestling match was over, the two Sasquatches stood, grinned goofily at one another and, along with the rest of their kind, began to walk away. TJ looked over his shoulder and motioned for the Winchesters to follow.

As a whole, the group of creatures moved deeper into the woods and entered another, smaller, clearing. A small fire burned in its center. TJ, his brother, and several others gathered round and sat, motioning for Sam and Dean to do the same.

A shorter, blonder Sasquatch, clearly a female, approached and offered the brothers a rudimentary bowl filled with an assortment of nuts and berries. She giggled when they refused the offering and patted them both, none too gently, on their heads. She batted her eyelashes and cooed causing both men to squirm uncomfortably.

"Dean, your super smooth Winchester charm is working overtime, I think she likes you," whispered Sam out of the corner of his mouth.

"Uh. Uh. Think again, Sammy," Dean replied, "those big brown eyes are all for you. You must be more her type."

They were both grateful when TJ commanded their attention once again. Their Sasquatch friend held a stick and tapped it on the ground a few times before laboriously spelling out "We Aanyeti" in the dirt.

Sam glanced over at his brother. Dean was staring at the Sasquatch with his jaw dropped down and his mouth hanging open. It took a lot of self control on Sam's part not to reach over and push his brother's mouth shut. Motioning in a circle, hoping to indicate the entire group, Sam asked, "You call yourselves Aanyeti?"

TJ nodded, as did a few of the others.

Dean straightened, looked around then focused on Sam. "At least we got the yeti part right."

Taking a better look at the area immediately outside of the camp circle, Sam tapped against Dean's arm and dipped his head slightly to the perimeter. Dean squinted, leaned forward, sucked in a breath then sat back, amazed expression turned to Sam whispering, "It's like one of those pictures in the newspaper where you find the hidden stuff."

Sam grinned. It'd taken a few minutes sitting there, staring into the woods, but eventually the outlines of huts stood out from the background forest. Some had flowers in front of them. Others had decorations made from grasses, twigs and stones hanging near the doorways. Each one, while blending perfectly with its surrounding was unique and different from the others. Sam could almost look around the group and pick out which individuals lived in which huts.

"It's a whole Sasqu—Aanyeti city," Dean said in a low voice, gaze moving in a slow circle, resting for a few seconds on each hut.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, his voice equally as low as his brother's. "Incredible, isn't it?"

TJ gently tapped on Sam's shoulder and motioned him to follow. Sam rubbed at his still sore belly, happy he was being asked to walk, not get another jaunt on the Sasquatch Express. Not only did TJ have boney shoulders, close acquaintance with his fur apparently irritated Sam's sinuses. Standing and stretching before he bent and brushed his jeans clean, Sam waited while Dean did the same. They both stood looking at TJ. He motioned to them again to follow, turned and headed for the huts.

The Aanyeti jogged along a path between two of the larger huts, Dean and Sam following behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder and Sam saw it was the three of them again, none of the others were following. At least not that he could see. Sam suspected if TJ's brother was anything like his they were certainly being followed and watched very closely.

They had gone maybe a couple of miles, Sam couldn't be sure since it wasn't a straight line, there were twists and turns often taking them through a small gorge or around steeper ground. Eventually TJ stopped at the entrance to a cave, hesitated only a few seconds, turned to be sure they were still following, and ducked inside.

Dean followed, somewhat reluctantly, Sam thought. As soon as Sam stepped completely inside, Dean's arm moved away from his side, silently—and probably unconsciously—marking the line Sam was not to cross. Stopping for a few seconds to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, Sam ignored his brother's actions, didn't cross the line, and took a good look around.

It was a cave. Pretty much like any other cave. Dark, dank, moisture oozing down the walls gave them a sparkly look. He watched as Dean looked up, down and to the side, taking in every detail Sam was sure. They hadn't had good luck in caves and Sam knew Dean was as uncomfortable in this one as Sam.

TJ seemed perfectly oblivious, and apparently had ultraviolet vision because he bounced over the craggy ground, leading them deeper into the cave. What they'd thought was one cave turned out to be several connected together. Sam wondered if this was natural or if the Aanyeti had done this somehow. TJ led them to one smaller cave, nothing more than a room really off the main cavern.

Immediately Sam saw a difference in this particular area. The ground was covered with dried grass, herbs, and flowers, taking away the damp, musty odor of the rest of the caverns. The walls were covered with some powdery substance that kept them dry and turned them a lighter shade. There were torches every few feet along the walls.

Dean stepped away from Sam toward one of the torches, pulling his lighter from his pocket as he did so. His attention, however, suddenly became more focused on the wall next to the torch. Against the lighter background were darker markings. Sam edged closer. Reaching out, he pointed to the darker patches on the wall, fingertips not quite brushing against them. They looked like the Aanyeti version of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.

"Dean, do you see—?"

"Yeah," Dean whispered. Lifting the lighter, he ignited the first torch.

Sam leaned forward, squinting as he looked over Dean's shoulder. "I think that's you, your jacket, your amulet."

"Yeah, and my gun pointed at your head," Dean mumbled. There was clearly blood coming from the back of Sam's head and he was falling backwards, John grinning triumphantly in the background.

As they moved around the room, lighting torches and looking at the drawings, it was plain all of them were of Dean and Sam, some with John, some with Lucifer. Others showed destruction of cities and land. One particularly disturbing one showed Sam surrounded by the smoky black of demons while Lucifer struck Dean down. Another depicted how the brothers killed John. Together, the pictures told an all too painful story, and all with outcomes Sam never wanted to see and certainly didn't want to think about.

When a shiver rippled down his spine, Dean turned and looked over his shoulder, critical gaze moving up and down Sam. He couldn't do much more than offer Dean a weak smile.

Movement behind them made Sam turn. As he'd suspected TJ's brother had also followed along and was now standing beside TJ, both watching the Winchester brothers quietly. Long, silent minutes ticked by with the two sets of siblings looking at one another. Finally TJ moved, he placed one paw on his own brother's shoulder, Sam saw how his digits squeezed tightly.

Then TJ motioned between them and Sam and Dean and in a second sweeping motion moved his free arm around, indicating the walls of the cave.

"All these different things can happen?" Dean asked. "One of them will?"

TJ nodded, again he motioned between his brother and himself and the Winchesters. Bunching his free hand into a fist he thumped it hard a few times against his chest.

"They're on our side," Sam said softly.

Both Aanyeti nodded, TJ clapped.

When they returned to the main Aanyeti village, the offer of food and drink was gratefully accepted by both Dean and Sam.

-0-

The walk back to the car was a quiet one between the brothers. They'd stayed in the Aanyeti village all night, not wanting to risk traveling on foot in the woods after dark. When they reached the Impala, Sam scuffed his toe along the gravel shoulder of the road. He wandered to the back of the car and leaned against it. Dean settled beside him, gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing.

"How could they know all that?" Sam finally asked, his voice sounding small to his ears.

Beside him he felt Dean's shoulders rise and drop. "I have no idea. But, one thing I very clearly got, besides the fact that they're on our side and will fight with us, is there are many possible outcomes."

"It's kind of cool, knowing something so mythical exists and would help us, wants us to win."

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

"In all those pictures, all those possible outcomes, one of us, you or me or Dad, one of us died."

Dean shoved away from the car, dug his keys from his pocket and headed for the driver's side door. "Two of you already have."

The End


End file.
